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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25784605">invisible string</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/criminally_minded/pseuds/criminally_minded'>criminally_minded</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Because of Reasons, Colin Creevey Lives, Drarry, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Forced Proximity, Getting Together, Human Disaster Harry Potter, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Severus Snape Lives</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:14:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,688</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25784605</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/criminally_minded/pseuds/criminally_minded</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry hadn’t been following Draco the day that Zacharias Smith tried to hex Draco when his back had been turned. Well, not exactly, anyway. Is it really considered ‘following someone’ if you were simply heading to the same class as them? And if they took the long way ‘round, and you decided you also felt like a bit of a walk, well, that was fine, wasn’t it? In any case, it had been lucky, since Zacharias had chosen that day to be the world’s biggest prat. It was pure instinct that drove Harry when he tackled Draco out of the way, a surge of protectiveness that compelled him to take the jinx himself. It had been what Hermione would have called his ‘courageous nature’ and Ron would have called his ‘blatant stupidity.’</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>475</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Drarry</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>invisible string</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a long year for Draco, though it was not yet half over. Really, it had been a long several years, but somehow this was shaping up to be the worst, despite the constant threat of war no longer looming over his head. </p><p>“Potter, this Draught of Peace is atrocious. I am tempted to have you consume it so we could all witness what effects this disaster would have on the human body.”</p><p>Draco glanced over and was unsurprised to find Harry’s gaze fixed on him rather than Snape, who was vanishing the potion with a wave of his wand. He looked quickly back to his own potion, which was rather lighter than it was meant to be. He sighed in frustration and set about trying to figure out what he had done wrong. It was nearly impossible to focus during class when Harry Potter was trying to burn a hole in the back of his head with his relentless gaze. The prat had spent the entire year thus far watching Draco, no doubt convinced he was planning something nefarious. </p><p>No matter. Draco hadn’t let Harry’s unfounded suspicions get to him once this year, and this time would be no different. </p><p>The lesson ended before he could figure out what was wrong with his potion, but he bottled it up and handed it in anyway, knowing Snape would most likely give him an A or an O no matter what swill he handed in. He hoisted his bag over his shoulder, and with a quick nod to his godfather, set off toward Transfiguration. </p><p>Draco’s eighth year had not been as he was expecting. Not that he had really expected to live to see eighth year at all. He had made his peace with the fact that he would not survive the war, yet here he was, eighteen years old and somehow, alive. Not just alive, but back at Hogwarts, taking lessons and preparing for his NEWTs as if nothing at all had happened. </p><p>The halls of Hogwarts, however, proved that much had changed. Draco was one of the very few Slytherins who had returned, and that was simply because he had nowhere else to go. It was immediately clear that, though the Wizengamot had cleared him of all charges, the student body was not so quick to forgive.</p><p>He had spent much of his first few weeks back in the hospital wing, suffering the effects of various hexes and jinxes. Draco learned quickly the safest ways to keep himself safe: walk with your head down, and be alone, as it draws less attention. When you must eat, sneak your meals either in the library or the dorm. Speaking never ends well, and should be avoided at all costs. Following these rules meant he could get by largely unharrassed by his peers. The one person he had been unable to shake was, of course, Harry Potter. Harry had insisted on an extremely awkward and one-sided conversation upon their return to school, wherein he apologized for the fate of Draco’s parents, and asked if they could leave the past behind them and try to be civil with one another. Draco had stared blankly at him, bored and unmoved. He had nodded once, then continued on to his dorm. </p><p>“Malfoy!”</p><p><em>Think of the Savior and he shall appear</em>, Draco thought unkindly. He kept his eyes firmly on the stone passageway before him. This meant that he was wholly unprepared when he was shoved hard from behind. </p><p>Draco fell quite painfully to his hands and knees moments before Harry was thrown into the statue of Batilda the Bewildered. Draco registered a sickening crack as Harry slumped to the ground, unmoving. </p><p>Draco’s heart froze at the sight of the dark blood marring Harry’s forehead. He looked around frantically, gaze falling on a stricken Zacharias Smith, whose eyes were darting between Harry and his own wand. </p><p>“Smith,” Draco croaked. Nobody else was in the seldom-used passageway. “Go get Pomfrey.” Smith continued to stare uncomprehendingly at Harry, apparently too shocked to move.</p><p>“Smith!” Draco shouted, the loudest noise he had made in months. The boy finally looked at him. “Pomfrey. Now.” He nodded once, turning and scurrying away.</p><p>The blood that trickled steadily from the gash on Harry’s temple was forming a dark halo beneath his head. Draco crawled over to him, heart drumming a tattoo against his Adam’s apple. He leaned over Harry, pressing his hand to the wound in a meager attempt to quell the bleeding.</p><p>“Potter, can you hear me?” He attempted to control the volume of his voice, though he knew it was useless to try to stop it from shaking. Harry gave no sign of consciousness.</p><p>Draco glanced desperately around the hallway, but there was still no sign of help. His hand was slick with warm blood, which he felt beginning to seep through his fingers. He racked his brain for anything that might help, but he knew almost nothing about healing magic. Perhaps a potion or two he knew of might have helped, but nothing that was readily available, and thus, was useless. Draco had never felt so utterly helpless in his entire life. </p><p>An intense pang of fear shot through him then. He had only narrowly avoided Azkaban after the war. If he was found now, kneeling over a dead Boy Who Lived, what would become of him? He had a wild urge to flee not only the hallway, but escape from the school entirely, perhaps even make a life somewhere in a new country. Looking into the pale, waxy features of Harry Potter, and knowing that his fingers were the only chance at keeping him alive, stopped him. </p><p>Harry Potter ruined absolutely everything.</p><p>Draco closed his eyes and pressed both hands down on the wound, as hard as he dared. “You’re going to be okay, Potter. You are not going to die. Not after everything…” He was only vaguely aware that he was speaking aloud. It was more to comfort himself, anyway. “You are absolutely not going to die because you were being a brave idiot and trying to protect me. Absolutely not, I refuse to allow it.” His hands were growing warm now as he tried to visualize the steady stream of blood turning to a trickle, and then stopping entirely. “I promise you are going to live, Harry Potter. I promise you absolutely will not die today.”</p><p>Suddenly, his hands burned as unexpectedly and severely as if he had touched an open flame. His eyes flew open and met the wide, startled green eyes of the boy who had only moments before been unconscious. </p><p>Dizziness came upon Draco like a wave. Unable to resist, he slumped forward, his head thumping down onto Harry’s chest.</p><p>The world went black. </p>
<hr/><p>Everything had happened very quickly. Harry had seen Smith pointing his wand at Draco’s retreating back, and he had acted on impulse, shoving Draco out of the way. It was typical for him to have not been able to regain his own balance, crashing into the bloody statue face-first. </p><p>He figured he had only been unconscious for a minute or two, but Harry knew something incredibly strange had happened, as he had woken up with Draco Malfoy splayed across his chest, and a cool, tingling sensation thrumming through his veins. He had just heaved Draco’s body off of his own when Madame Pomfrey and a terrified looking Zacharias Smith sped down the corridor.</p><p>Rage and disgust pierced through Harry as he spotted Smith. What kind of coward tries to cast when their opponent’s back was turned? He had no more than glanced at him when Smith suddenly stiffened and fell over, crashing to the cold stone passageway. Harry blinked in surprise and Smith sprang back up, whimpering and pinching his bleeding nose. It had been years since Harry had lost control of his magic like he had just done.</p><p>“Oh for goodness’ sake.. <em>Episkey</em>!” Pomfrey cried, fixing Smith’s nose with a flick of her wand. “Now, if everyone could please stop injuring themselves long enough for me to assess Mr. Malfoy. Smith, I thought you told me it was Potter who was hurt.” </p><p>“It was!” he answered, still prodding gently at his nose. </p><p>Madame Pomfrey grabbed him by the chin, turning his head to each side. “You seem fine, Harry. Were you injured?”</p><p>Harry shook his head quickly, “I don’t really know what happened but I’m fine now. Malfoy, though…”</p><p>Another flick of her wand and Draco was being carried down the corridor, off to the hospital wing. Harry jogged to keep up, but Pomfrey held out a hand. “You and Smith are to report to the Headmistress at once.” </p><p>Harry was strangely reluctant to leave Draco’s side, but turned dutifully and headed off in the opposite direction, not waiting around to see if Smith would follow. He walked in a daze, feeling vaguely nauseated, until he had reached Professor McGonagall’s office. She had refused to take over the Headmasters’ traditional rooms, preferring her cozy office that she had used when she was teaching Transfiguration. </p><p>She had obviously been expecting them, as she flung open the door before Harry could even knock and ushered him in, looking harried. “You are in quite a state, Zacharias, do you need to go to the Hospital wing?” </p><p>The surly boy shook his head. “Madame Pomfrey already patched me up, ma’am.”</p><p>“Right. Well then,” the professor took a seat behind her desk and gestured for the boys to take the seats opposite her. “Tell me exactly what happened.”</p><p>It was good that Zacharias had come in the end, since it took the both of them to puzzle out what had happened. Harry had started off angrily, recounting to the Headmistress the completely unprovoked attack against Draco Malfoy.</p><p>“It was just a tripping jinx,” Smith protested hotly.</p><p>“How was I supposed to know that?” Harry demanded. “All I saw was Malfoy minding his own business, and you pointing your wand at his back!” </p><p>“What do you care, Potter, you should be thanking me! He’s a bloody death eater!” </p><p>Quite suddenly, every book on McGonagall’s bookshelf flew toward Smith, flapping like misshapen and overgrown birds, attempting to beat him soundly about the head. The boy could do nothing but cry out in shock, using his arms to try to protect his face.</p><p>McGonagall stopped the assault of the books and sent them all back to their shelves with a wave of her wand, looking distinctly startled. “That will be quite enough of that, I think. I would thank you both to calm down and continue on with the story. Smith, are you injured?” </p><p>He glowered, but shook his head, trying to rearrange his hair. </p><p>It took another ten minutes or so to recount the story, with Smith filling in where Harry could not. McGonagall looked extremely troubled by the end of it. “I will be having a word with your head of house, Smith. Casting jinxes on your peers is unacceptable, and to think you were assaulting him unprovoked is absolutely appalling. If that is all, you may go now.” </p><p>Without another word, Smith stalked out of the room, shutting the door a bit louder than was necessary. </p><p>McGonagall was leaning toward Harry with a concerned gaze and furrowed brow. “Mr. Potter, are you feeling alright? I have never seen you lose control of your magic like that, and you’re looking a bit pale.” </p><p>Harry was, in fact, feeling quite unwell. His nausea had yet to subside, and his head was beginning to ache. He moved to push his hair out of his face and realized that his hands were trembling. “Just tired, I think.” This was true, though sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. “Listen, can I go check on Malfoy? I just want to make sure he’s okay.”</p><p>McGonagall studied him for another moment before nodding. “Yes, Potter. You may go. And ten points to Gryffindor, for protecting your classmate.” </p><p>Harry nodded and shot out of the room. He was beginning to feel so ill that he thought he might need to be checked by Madame Pomfrey after all, but by the time he had reached the Hospital Wing, he found he was feeling much better. </p>
<hr/><p>The first thing Draco felt when he awoke was an extreme fatigue such as he had never known before. He felt as though he had been running for days straight. His limbs were heavy, his head was throbbing, and a strange hollowness filled the pit of his stomach. He groaned in absolute misery.</p><p>“Malfoy? Malfoy! Madame, I think he’s waking up!”</p><p>Draco was fighting his return to consciousness, but knew it was a fruitless effort when the mediwitch came over to begin poking and prodding him with her wand. </p><p>“Oh, goodness,” she was muttering, quite disconcertingly in Draco’s opinion. “Mr. Malfoy, can you- <em>Mr. Potter</em>, do back up, I need some space. Mr. Malfoy, can you hear me?” </p><p>Draco forced his eyes open just a fraction, enough to see the exceedingly worried faces of Madame Pomfrey and Harry Potter hovering above him. Draco’s eyes snapped to Harry’s forehead, but the only mark was the famous lightning bolt scar, as if nothing had happened in the corridor at all.</p><p>“Oh, dear,” Madame Pomfrey fretted. “I’m not certain he can hear us.” </p><p>Draco continued to stare. </p><p>“Malfoy, you git, answer us already so we know you’re not a vegetable.” Harry’s words were harsh, but his tone was concerned and unfamiliar. </p><p>Draco huffed an annoyed breath and nodded brusquely. “Can hear fine. Still smarter than Potter.” </p><p>The faces looming above him both showed obvious signs of relief. Madame Pomfrey sighed and ran her wand along Draco’s body, performing some diagnostic spells. “You gave us quite the fright, Mr. Malfoy,” she said hastily. “You’ve been unconscious for the better part of two days. We were beginning to wonder…”</p><p>Two days? Draco forced himself to sit upright, though the amount of effort it took was alarming. The last thing he remembered was trying to keep Harry from bleeding to death, and the heat searing his palms. How had this happened? He looked around the hospital wing and found McGonagall and Snape conversing in hushed tones by the entrance, but when they noticed him watching them, they stopped talking abruptly and rushed over. </p><p>“Draco, it is very good to see you awake,” McGonagall said, “you must have many questions.” </p><p>The room went silent as they all waited for him to respond. Draco felt uncomfortable under the gazes of so many people. He tried to focus his attention on Snape, one of the few people whom he was comfortable speaking freely with. </p><p>“What happened?” He rasped. Madame Pomfrey rushed to fetch him a glass of water, which he took gratefully, finishing it in several quick gulps. </p><p>Though he had directed his question to Professor Snape, it was Harry who stepped forward to answer. “You saved my life,” he said quietly. “I think I was dying, and you saved me, but… but something happened when you did it.”</p><p>Draco has just drained an entire glass of water, but his mouth still felt bone dry. His tongue felt tacky and too large. He fixed his intense gaze on Snape, finding it far too uncomfortable to look into Harry’s earnest green eyes. </p><p>“Draco,” Snape drawled, “were you aware that you owed a life debt to Mr. Potter?” </p><p>Draco opened his mouth to respond, then caught the sight of three other openly curious faces in his periphery. His jaw shut with a click and he nodded. </p><p>“A life debt is a very serious and tricky bit of magic,” Snape continued, looking even more tense and surly than he usually did. “It is not completely understood by even the most learned of wizards. I have a suspicion of what may have transpired, but first, I must ask you to tell us what happened in that corridor before Smith brought Madame Pomfrey to you.”</p><p>Draco clenched his jaw reflexively and fixed his gaze at the starched white blanket on top of him. </p><p>“Draco,” Snape murmured, “I would not ask this of you if it were not of the utmost importance.”</p><p>Draco took several slow, deep breaths. The reflex to stay silent, stay unnoticed, stay safe, was so thoroughly ingrained in him that to open his mouth amongst so many people to tell his story seemed unthinkable. He could feel a thin sheen of sweat forming on his brow, and the strange hollow in his gut gave a lurch. He stared directly at Snape, who was still waiting very patiently. </p><p>“Potter tripped and hit his head.” At this point, Harry opened his mouth to interject, but was cut off by a sharp glance by McGonagall. “Covered the wound with my hands and then…” Draco hesitated. How to explain the consuming heat? The pain in his hands as if his palms had been seared off entirely. The overwhelming dizziness that gave him hardly a moment before there was only blackness. </p><p>“Then?” Snape prompted.</p><p>Draco shrugged. “My hands burned. I passed out.” Wholly inadequate though it was, he knew it was the best he was capable of. </p><p>“That’s all?” Snape asked. “Be absolutely certain, Draco. Did you say anything? Perform any spells?” </p><p>Draco flushed, acutely aware of Harry’s gaze on him. “Might’ve done,” he mumbled.</p><p>Snape was beginning to lose his patience, but was working hard to maintain his composure. “Please elaborate. What exactly did you say?”</p><p>Draco shrugged. “Said he would be okay.” He couldn’t help glancing at Harry, who looked a bit dumbstruck. A thousand cutting retorts formed on the tip of Draco’s tongue, but he bit them back with practiced ease. </p><p>A curt nod, and tension seemed to seep from the set of Snape’s shoulders. He rubbed his brow tiredly. “There have been reports- this is not a common occurrence, mind you- reports that suggest that if one wizard owes another a life debt, and the second wizard becomes unwell or is injured, the indebted wizard may… heal the other, using a fraction of his magical essence.”</p><p>“His- his <em>what</em>?” Harry gaped. </p><p>Snape glared at him. “Do not interrupt me, Potter.”</p><p>The empty glass in front of Draco trembled. Snape eyed it with suspicion. </p><p>“When Madame Pomfrey found you boys,” Professor McGonagall started, “Harry was perfectly unharmed. You, Mr. Malfoy, could not be awoken, and, as she told you, you remained unconscious for two days.” </p><p>“So, Professor,” Harry started slowly, “Malfoy was able to heal me because of this... life debt. Thing. Right?”</p><p>“We believe so, Potter, yes,” McGonagall answered tersely. </p><p>“So… we should both be fine then?” </p><p>In the ensuing silence, a growing sense of dread and unease began to take up room in the pit residing in Draco’s stomach. He had used his ‘magical essence’ to heal Potter, Snape had told him. How much, exactly, had he used?</p><p>“Wand?” He asked quietly. Harry withdrew it from his pocket and handed it to Draco quickly. Draco’s dread grew exponentially. Though the wand felt familiar in his hands, there was no answering hum of magic that he usually experienced. </p><p>He pointed his wand at the glass on the bedside table. “<em>Wingardium Leviosa</em>,” he whispered. The glass gave a feeble lurch, and moved no more. He furrowed his brow. “<em>Wingardium Leviosa</em>,” he said, loudly this time. The glass fell over with a resounding ‘<em>clunk</em>.’ </p><p>“Oh, dear,” Madame Pomfrey said, voice muffled by the hand partially covering her mouth.</p><p>Draco turned to Snape, eyes wide with alarm.The potions professor looked uncharacteristically worried. “It would seem, Draco, that you have saved Potter’s life by transferring a great deal of your magical energy to him.”</p><p>Draco and Harry both stared open-mouthed at Snape. After several excruciatingly silent moments, Harry closed his eyes and frowned. “Now that you mention it, my magic does feel… different.”</p><p>“Different how?” McGonagall asked. </p><p>Harry kept his eyes closed, seeming to be thinking hard. “It’s difficult to explain. Less… settled, I suppose. It feels strange.” He opened his eyes and slid his own wand out of his pocket, eyeing the glass Draco had tried to levitate. He pointed his wand at it. “<em>Wingardium Lev</em>-”</p><p>Before he could even finish the incantation, the glass shot off the table with such speed and force that it smashed against the ceiling before anyone could react. Madame Pomfrey gave a cry of shock as the shards of glass fell, scattering across the floor. Harry blinked in surprise, then vanished the shards of glass with a wordless wave of his wand. </p><p>“Well,” Snape said, voice dark and low, “I suppose that proves our theory.” </p><p>Draco was feeling numb, the empty pit in his stomach seemed to become a growing void. “Permanent?” </p><p>Snape and McGonagall exchanged a quick glance. A tight frown on her face, McGonagall answered, “Unfortunately, Draco, we simply have no idea. As professor Snape has mentioned, wizardkind’s understanding of life debts and the bonds they create between wizards is limited. We will, of course, do everything in our power to return you both to your normal states. It seems for now, however, only time will tell.”</p><p>Draco felt his eyes burning and an uncomfortable lump forming in his throat. He wanted to rage, to scream and cry and throw things, but instead he let his head fall back against the pillow and closed his eyes tight. He wished desperately to be alone. </p><p>“Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall started, forcing Draco to peer at her without moving, “What you have done is incredibly courageous. You sacrificed a great deal to ensure that your fellow student survived, and for that, I will be awarding Slytherin fifty house points.”</p><p>Draco stared at her blankly. ‘<em>I didn't know what I was doing</em>,’ he wanted to say. ‘<em>I didn't know what I was sacrificing anything at all.</em>’ Instead of saying those things, he closed his eyes once more and turned his back to them all. </p><p>“Malfoy, are you okay?” Draco could hear the nerves in Harry’s voice, but couldn’t bring himself to care. What an absolutely horrid question. Obviously, Draco was not okay. He was practically a squib. He was exhausted, his head was aching, and he was sick of so much interaction after six months of virtual solitude. </p><p>“Mr. Malfoy needs rest,” Madame Pomfrey demanded peevishly. “He’s dealt with quite enough for one day. You lot clear out and let the boy sleep.” Draco could have kissed her. He listened as several pairs of feet started their quiet exit. “That means you too, Mr. Potter.” </p><p>“Er, right…” Draco could hear him scuffing his trainers against the floor. “Malfoy, I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll bring some books from the library, we can figure this out.” </p><p>Draco clenched his jaw shut as his instinct was to snap that if nobody had ever figured this out before then it was unlikely that two eighteen year olds with a couple of library books would be able to do so. After another silent moment, Harry sighed and Draco heard him retreat. Finally, finally, he was able to let the tension leave his body. Despite his mind being a whirlwind of uncertainty and dread, the powerful fatigue in his bones took over, and he was nearing sleep within minutes. </p><p>Draco felt as though he had barely drifted off when he was awoken by Professor McGonagall calling out for Madame Pomfrey. He sat up slowly in bed, blinking the sleep out of his tired eyes, and looked to see what was going on. </p><p>McGonagall was holding Harry by the elbow. He was a trembling mess, pale and sweaty, hair sticking up in every direction. The very air around him seemed to be crackling with energy. The flames on the candles in the doorway were flaring uncontrollably and the closest bed seemed to be vibrating on the stone floor. </p><p>“Poppy!” McGonagall cried again, just as the mediwitch scurried out from the back room, tying her robe tight as she ran over.</p><p>“My goodness, Minerva, what is going on?” she asked frantically.</p><p>Pomfrey grabbed Potter and steered him toward a bed as McGonagall started to explain. “The boys in his dorm woke me, they told me Potter was having some kind of fit. His magic was so out of control he brought down the hangings on his bed and several frames from the walls.” </p><p>Pomfrey was running her wand over Harry’s body, but even as Draco watched, Harry’s trembling was slowing and his breathing began to even out. </p><p>“I- I’m actually feeling a bit better,” Harry gasped, trying to sit up.</p><p>Madame Pomfrey pushed him firmly back down to the bed. “You’re feverish, Mr. Potter. Wait here, do not move from this bed.” She rushed off to her potions cabinet, grabbing two vials and returning to Harry’s bedside. She waited as he gulped them down and shuddered hard. The candles in the doorway were back to normal, but the space around Harry still seemed charged. </p><p>“Harry, can you tell us what happened?” McGonagall looked worried, and Draco thought perhaps a bit alarmed. </p><p>Harry’s hands were still shaking slightly as he clutched at his stomach. “I started to feel bad as soon as I left here last night. By the time I got to the dorm it was so bad I almost fell over. I don’t remember messing up my bed or the portraits.”</p><p>“When you say you started to feel bad,” Madame Pomfrey prompted, “what do you mean by that?” </p><p>“Just… I don’t know. Sick. Nauseous, like I was going to throw up. Shaky. Not right.” </p><p>“And now?” Pomfrey asked.</p><p>Harry sighed. “Better. The further from the dorm we got the better I felt.” </p><p>McGonagall was looking back and forth between Harry and Draco. “Oh, dear,” she murmured. “Oh, <em>boys</em>.” </p><p>Harry looked alarmed. “What is it, Professor?”</p><p>“Are you feeling well enough to stand, Potter?” She asked.</p><p>Harry stood slowly, stumbling a bit before McGonagall steadied him. She led him further into the hospital wing, walking directly toward Draco. </p><p>They stopped directly at his bedside, and Harry stared at him with wide, startled eyes. As though Draco was the one who had stumbled into Harry’s bedroom in the middle of the night. <em>Honestly</em>. </p><p>“How do you feel now, Harry?” McGonagall asked.</p><p>“Completely normal,” he answered immediately. “What is going on?” </p><p>McGonagall sighed heavily. “It appears as though Draco’s magic, which he used to heal you, is reacting poorly to being separated from him.” Harry and Draco exchanged a horrified glance, then stared back at the terse professor. “Until we get this all sorted out, I think it would be dangerous for you two to be apart- don’t give me that look, Potter, there’s nothing I can do about it. You’ll have to stay here tonight, and then arrangements will be made going forward.” </p><p>“Classes?” Draco asked, the first thing he had asked since all the chaos had begun. </p><p>McGonagall rubbed her temple in a rare display of weariness. “Professor Snape and I will work to arrange everything. Take tomorrow off from class, by Sunday we should have all the details sorted. Poppy, can you set an extra bed for Mr. Potter?” </p><p>Madame Pomfrey was shaking her head in dismay, but responded quickly, “Of course, Minerva. Right away.”  </p><p>Five minutes later Harry was curled up on the bed directly next to Draco’s, staring intently at his profile. Draco was far too used to Harry watching him to pay it much mind. </p><p>Draco could absolutely not believe that one person could have such horrifically bad luck. He had been told only hours prior that he had accidentally given away most of his magic and now he would be forced to spend all of his time with the one person he had given it to? And of course it was Potter who, in his usual fashion, had to make as big a deal of it as possible by not being able to keep the magic under control. How could his situation get any worse?</p><p>As if on cue, he realized with growing horror that tears were forming in his eyes, and a snitch-sized lump had taken up residence in his throat. Merlin help him, Draco would not cry in front of Harry Potter. <em>Never again</em>. He screwed up his eyes and swallowed hard, thinking determinedly about Quidditch until the urge to cry had passed. </p><p>“Malfoy?” </p><p>Good lord, he couldn’t even contemplate his own misery in peace anymore. He sighed quite dramatically to show how put upon he was and turned to look at Harry, eyebrow raised. Harry was squinting slightly, glasses already on his bedside table. </p><p>“I’m sorry that this happened.” Harry looked so sincere that it made Draco’s heart lurch and tears blurred his vision once more. After a moment had passed, Harry asked softly, “Why don’t you talk anymore?” </p><p>The abrupt topic change took Draco by such surprise that the tears receded as quickly as they had come. “I talk,” he answered. </p><p>“Not like you used to,” Harry shot back. Draco didn’t have to ask what he meant. Like he used to, when he had friends, when he was desperate for his family’s approval, when he would have done absolutely anything to get under Harry’s skin.</p><p>He shrugged. “Things change.” </p><p>Harry snorted and rolled onto his back. “Tell me about it. I never thought I would be at Hogwarts without Ron and Hermione. Never thought I’d miss you shouting insults at me from across the courtyard, either. But here we are.” </p><p>Draco simply hummed in agreement. He had, of course, noticed immediately that Granger and the Weasel had decided not to return for their final year. Harry had seemed a bit lost without them, but Loony Lovegood had not let him sulk for long. Lately, whenever Draco saw one of them, the other wasn’t far behind. Of course, Harry had a long line of people who would give anything to be his friend. </p><p>And yet, he said he had missed being insulted by Draco. What a crazy person. He and Lovegood were perfectly suited.</p><p>“Potter,” he said on impulse. Harry turned back to him, surprised. “...Your hair is ridiculous.” </p><p>Harry blinked owlishly for a moment, then laughed loudly, the sound echoing in the empty hospital wing. He grinned at Draco, who cursed his traitorous, racing heart. “You’ve gotten rusty.” </p><p>“Give it time,” Draco answered automatically.</p><p>Harry was still grinning at him as if he had done something brilliant. </p><p>Draco fell asleep soon after, thinking about the wide smile he had seen so many times over the years. Never once had it been directed at him prior to that night. Suddenly, his situation didn’t seem quite so hopeless.</p><p>The next time he woke, Draco was feeling quite a bit more rested. He heard hushed voices nearby, but was reluctant to open his eyes. Everything was much simpler in his hazy half wakefulness.</p><p>“-going to be miserable. We won’t last a week.”</p><p>“I think he might surprise you, Harry.”</p><p>The dreamy voice of Luna Lovegood finally convinced Draco to return to the waking world and see what was going on. He suppressed a yawn and pushed up onto his elbows, looking over at Harry and Luna. </p><p>“Good morning, Draco. There’s some fruit on the table there if you’re hungry,” she said, disarmingly kind. He nodded at her warily. They hadn’t spoken since… well, since the Manor. </p><p>Draco stood slowly, needing desperately to use the loo and freshen up. He started off, allowing himself to stretch leisurely as soon as he was out of sight of the others. </p><p>A few minutes later he headed back, feeling much better after washing up. He knew something was wrong as soon as he saw Harry. He was hunched over, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Luna was talking to him quietly, but once again the air surrounding Harry seemed charged, and bizarrely enough, the slippers at his feet had at least tripled in size. </p><p>Draco stopped in his tracks. Surely Harry had not been so affected by his trip to the bathroom. He had hardly been gone ten minutes and he had been just down the hall. This had to be about something else. </p><p>Luna glanced up, saw him standing there, and smiled vaguely. She looked back to Harry and brushed a sweaty lock of hair behind his ear. She leaned closer and whispered in his ear, one hand on his lower back. Draco bristled and walked over quickly. </p><p>Just as it was the night before, the closer to him Draco got, the more tension bled from the rigid set of Harry’s shoulders. He looked up and gave Draco a tired smile. Instinctively, Draco reached out and touched a tentative hand to Harry’s shoulder. Harry seemed to sag in relief. </p><p>“Thanks,” he said. “That’s loads better.” </p><p>Draco nodded uncomfortably and moved to his own bed, sitting down on its edge. </p><p>“Well,” Luna started, picking up an enormous slipper and eyeing it critically, “this is quite a bit more severe than I thought it would be, just from what Harry’s told me.” </p><p>Harry shifted and rubbed absently at the back of his neck. “It wasn’t that bad this time. I guess the further apart we are the worse I feel.”</p><p>Luna nodded sagely. “Yes, that makes perfect sense.” Draco almost snorted. He couldn’t take a piss alone without Harry Potter losing his mind. None of this made any sense whatsoever. </p><p>“We have to fix this,” Harry said, quite unnecessarily, in Draco’s opinion. “As soon as possible.”</p><p>“You’re quite right, Harry,” Luna said, now petting the slipper as if it were a large cat. “My father knows quite a lot about obscure magic, I’ll owl him and see if he’s ever heard of something like this happening before.” </p><p>Harry looked skeptical, but nodded. “Yeah, I suppose it couldn’t hurt. We should owl Hermione, too. Nobody is better at research than Hermione.” He turned to Draco. “Are you feeling well enough to go to the library today?” </p><p>Draco scowled. “Not an invalid.”</p><p>Harry just rolled his eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes. Luna, since, er, me and Malfoy have to stay together, would you go send the owls while we head to the library?”</p><p>Luna smiled kindly. “Of course, Harry. I’ll meet you there.” She handed him the large slipper, patted him on the cheek, and was off. As Draco watched her go, he heard her mumbling nonsensical numbers under her breath. </p><p>“Strange,” he muttered.</p><p>Harry looked at him sharply. “Don’t insult her.” </p><p>“Not an insult,” Draco shrugged. “Just a fact. She’s strange.”</p><p>Harry looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. “Yes, I suppose she is,” he agreed once he realized Draco hadn’t been making fun of his friend. “But she’s kind and funny, and really quite smart, too.” </p><p>“I know,” Draco answered quietly, thinking about a dank basement in a cold house, and Luna’s warm, forgiving smile. </p>
<hr/><p>Harry honestly could not believe the absurdity of the situation he had found himself in. He could only imagine the look on Ron’s face when he found out that Harry became physically ill when he was separated from Draco Malfoy. ‘<em>Funny</em>,’ he would probably say, ‘<em>because I get sick whenever I'm near the ferret</em>.’ </p><p>Hermione had decided not to return to Hogwarts in favor of accepting a job at the ministry, and Ron had been offered a spot in the Auror Academy without even applying. At first, Ron had been a bit miffed when Harry had told him he would not be joining the Aurors right away, but he had understood once Harry explained that he just wanted one year of his life which would not revolve around dark wizards. One year in which he could go to school, do well in his classes, and live his life as normally as possible.</p><p>The first month back had been bizarre. He had not only to cope with the new living situation, in which all returning eighth years had been placed together in one dormitory regardless of house, but he had to do it without Ron and Hermione for the first time ever. Harry kept mostly to himself in those early days, since a great majority of his friends had opted not to return. Then, one day when he was sitting in the eighth year common room working on a Charms paper, Luna Lovegood had situated herself beside him on the couch and began talking to him in that dreamy voice as though they had already been in the middle of a conversation. He still missed Ron and Hermione, of course, but Luna turned out to be very good company, and he quickly grew to love her. </p><p>He had noticed the very first day that Malfoy had been one of only five Slytherins from their year to return. The other students were not kind to the Slytherins, despite Harry’s unwavering insistence that house rivalries should be put behind them all. Draco had a particularly bad time of it in the beginning, until he started to keep separate from all of his classmates, keeping his head down and not drawing attention to himself. Exactly the opposite of how Harry had always known him. The one time he had approached Draco to try to extend an olive branch, perhaps even to try to become friendly, Draco had stared at him so blankly that Harry was not even sure he had been heard. This diminished version of Draco Malfoy was unsettling, and Harry found it far too easy to revert to his old ways of watching Draco closely, monitoring where he was on the map so often that even he had to admit it was a bit obsessive. </p><p>Whenever he mentioned Draco to Ron and Hermione during their fire calls or visits, the two exchanged maddeningly knowing glances, as if to say ‘<em>not this again.</em>’ But Luna, bless her, would always listen to what he had to say on the matter. </p><p>‘I am fond of Draco,’ Luna had said airily. ‘I know he thinks me a bit mad, but he was quite good to me when I was trapped at the Manor. It was almost like we were friends.’ Luna never flinched when she spoke of the war. It was incredibly refreshing. </p><p>Harry hadn’t been following Draco the day that Zacharias Smith tried to hex Draco when his back had been turned. Well, not exactly, anyway. Is it really considered ‘following someone’ if you were simply heading to the same class as them? And if they took the long way ‘round, and you decided you also felt like a bit of a walk, well, that was fine, wasn’t it? In any case, it had been lucky, since Zacharias had chosen that day to be the world’s biggest prat. It was pure instinct that drove Harry when he tackled Draco out of the way, a surge of protectiveness that compelled him to take the jinx himself. It had been what Hermione would have called his ‘<em>courageous nature</em>’ and Ron would have called his ‘<em>blatant stupidity</em>.’ </p><p>Being bound to Draco Malfoy was inconvenient, yes, but he did rather figure it would save him quite a bit of time, since he would no longer have to pour over the Marauder’s Map at all hours of the day. Harry stared over a stack of books at Draco, watching as he flipped through page after page of an extremely tedious looking book. Harry had a book open in front of him but had hardly looked past the index. He doubted very much that the solution to their problem was in one of these books, but he was at a loss for anything else to do. </p><p>Harry closed his eyes, feeling the strangeness of the magic in his blood. It was cool and restless, where his own usually felt like a well-controlled flame. He felt filled to the brim with it, magic tingling at his fingertips, begging to be spent. He felt as though with a single thought, he could perform any magic he wanted. The potential was endless. </p><p>“Napping already, Potter?” </p><p>Harry opened his eyes and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Was just thinking.”</p><p>“How novel for you.” Draco didn’t look up, just closed the book in front of him and pulled another closer. </p><p>Harry turned the page of his book perfunctorily, mind miles away. “You know, “ he said impulsively. “Your magic feels different than I would have thought.”</p><p>Draco looked up at him at last, startled. “What?” </p><p>He shrugged. “It’s kind of like… water. A river, or something. I guess I would have thought it would feel…” </p><p>“Evil?” Draco was glowering at him. “Dark?” </p><p>“What? No!” Harry leaned forward. “I was going to say, I would have guessed it would have been like mine. Like fire.” </p><p>Draco didn’t seem to know what to say to that. He gave Harry a long, searching look that left him fidgeting in his seat, and then turned back to his book without a word. </p><p>“My magic feels like bubbles, if I had to say.” Luna had approached in the soundless way she so often did, dropping into the seat between Harry and Draco. “I’ve always found it fascinating, the differences between everyone's magic. My father, for example, says his magic is more of a sound that only he can hear, and it reminds him of the call of a female jabbermyte.” </p><p>Harry bit his lip hard to prevent a laugh, and smiled kindly at Luna. “Sent off the letters okay?” </p><p>Luna nodded. “Yes. One to my father, and one to Hermione, as we discussed.” </p><p>“Thanks, Luna. We found some books that might be promising, but nothing relevant so far.” </p><p>Draco snorted. </p><p>Harry frowned at him. “What?”</p><p>“We?” Draco looked pointedly at the lone book by Harry, open barely past the index, and then the mass of books surrounding himself. </p><p>Luna laughed, an airy, breathless sound. “Quite right, Draco. Research has never been Harry’s strong suit. Luckily, I do love to read. Knowledge is limitless, and our most powerful source of magic.” </p><p>Draco looked at Luna with an appraising eye, and the corner of his mouth quirked up a bit. “How very Ravenclaw of you,” he said quietly. </p><p>Harry stilled, gaze darting between Draco and Luna as they carried on a quiet, amicable discussion on how best to sift through the immense amount of information in front of them. For all Harry had watched Draco this year, he had never looked quite so comfortable. The slight upturn of his lips, the ease with which he was speaking with Luna. It was the first glimpse of pre-war Draco he had seen, and it had been Luna to bring it out of him. </p><p>Harry wasn’t surprised. After all, Luna was a lovely, kind, and intelligent girl. Harry just sort of wished it had been he who had made Draco smile first. </p>
<hr/><p>It was hours later when Professor Snape sent for them, and the only thing they had gained from the piles of books were headaches. Draco snapped the book in front of him shut, feeling distinctly grouchy. It certainly didn’t help that the only thing he had eaten all day was an apple, and it had to be approaching late afternoon. </p><p>“Don’t worry, Draco,” Luna said, closing her own book, “I do think we’ve made some progress. We understand more about life debts, in any case.” </p><p>Harry yawned wide and stood from the table, stretching his arms above his head. Draco focused very hard on packing away his own things and not on the sliver of golden skin that was exposed when Harry’s jumper rode up. “Let’s clean up and get this over with then.” He eyed the books on the table and with a flick of his wrist, sent them all zooming back to their shelves. </p><p>Draco gaped at him. </p><p>“I don’t remember you being very skilled with wandless magic, Harry,” Luna said. </p><p>Harry shrugged, “I’m usually shit at it. Guess it’s the extra magic.”</p><p>Draco came back to himself quickly. “I’m not bad at it.” Luna smiled serenely at him and Harry nodded, as if that settled the matter. </p><p>The three started off toward the dungeons. Harry and Luna chatted amicably about the goings on of their friends while Draco stared at the ground in front of them, trying very hard not to think about the types of things that were going to be said when the rest of the school saw him hanging around Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood. They would probably think he had cast the Imperius curse on them. The thought made his stomach clench so violently that his ravenous hunger of moments before disappeared entirely. </p><p>“You okay, Malfoy?” </p><p>Draco looked up at the sound of his surname and spared a moment to think about how that was the second time Harry had asked him that question in as many days, though he had never once asked in the seven years prior. He nodded quickly, glad to find that they had reached the potions master’s office. </p><p>“I think I’ll wait for you out here,” Luna said, leaning against the wall beside the office door. “Somehow, I don’t think Professor Snape will be glad to see me.”  </p><p>Harry nodded and smiled at her, then turned and knocked on the office door. The door opened moments later, revealing Snape looking as morose and bat-like as ever. He stepped aside, an unspoken invitation, and the two boys slipped past him. Snape settled in behind his desk, and conjured two uncomfortable looking dark wooden chairs opposite him. </p><p>“Sit,” he commanded. He rustled through several papers on his desk before pulling out two pieces of parchment and laying one in front of each of them as they sat down. “These are your new schedules. Luckily, you two already had several courses in common - Charms, Defense against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Potions. However, Draco is enrolled in Arithmancy and Runes while Mr. Potter is enrolled in Herbology.” Neither boy missed the scorn with which Snape had said the word Herbology, as if he had no idea why someone would take such an inelegant class. Draco suspected that if they were alone, the professor might have a cutting word or two to say about Professor Sprout, too. “Potter, since the greenhouses are so far from the school and the rest of your classes, Professor McGonagall and I have deemed it unwise for you to attend the classes.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“Don’t interrupt me, boy,” the professor snapped, black eyes glinting dangerously. “If you would be so kind as to let me finish, I was going to say that a tutor will be assigned to you for the time being, so that you can continue your Herbology training. I understand that you take that class with the Ravenclaw seventh and eighth years, yes?”</p><p>Harry appeared to be exercising great restraint as he responded, “Yes, Professor. I’m sure Luna Lovegood would be happy to tutor me.”</p><p>Professor Snape scoffed. “That Lovegood girl is so daft you might as well-”</p><p>He stopped abruptly as an entire shelf of mason jars filled with various potions ingredients along the wall behind him exploded. Draco jumped and looked at Harry in alarm. The air around him seemed to be vibrating, and he was flushed with rage. He barely seemed to have noticed the destruction he had just caused, so fixed was his hard glare on Snape. Acting on instinct once again, Draco reached out and laid his hand on Harry’s arm. “Hush, Potter,” he said softly. “No need for the dramatics.” </p><p>At once, Harry sighed deeply and the air around him lost its charged quality. Draco’s fingers tightened reflexively on Harry’s arm and his breath caught in his throat as he realized- physical touch helped to calm Harry. Not just any touch, <em>Draco's </em>touch. Though he knew it was a byproduct of the bond they had created, the thought was still bizarre and exhilarating. By the time he was able to rip his gaze away from Harry’s hunched profile, Snape had already repaired the jars and returned them to their rightful place on the shelf.</p><p>Snape’s lip curled in distaste as he glanced pointedly at Draco’s hand, which was still on Harry’s am. “If it were up to me, Mr. Potter, you would be locked in the hospital wing, unable to do damage to any more of this school or its inhabitants. Draco has the unfortunate burden of being tied to you, however, so we will be forced to make the best of the situation until it is resolved.” Harry clenched his jaw, and Draco moved his hand down, circling Harry’s wrist and moving his thumb in what he hoped was a soothing manner, stroking the soft skin near Harry’s racing pulse. “You are free to choose whatever tutor you’d like. You will, however, have to accompany Draco to Arithmancy and Runes.”</p><p>Harry nodded tersely. “Yes, sir.” </p><p>Snape watched Harry for another moment, as if waiting for him to be argumentative for the sake of it, but Draco could feel Harry’s pulse slowing and knew that the immediate danger had passed. He let Harry’s wrist go with a small sense of loss, and wondered vaguely if Harry felt the same. “As for your sleeping arrangements,” Snape continued, “since you both reside in the eighth year dormitories, the only adjustment is that, Draco, your things are being moved into the room next to Potter’s. Professor McGonagall is overseeing the house elves as they move your belongings. I think this should be close enough to keep you from feeling any… discomfort.” He looked between the two to see if there were any objections, and when they were not, he continued. “Now, I have begun my research into this matter, but seeing as we are dealing with one of the most complex and intricate forms of magic, I suspect that there will be little that can be done for this situation other than to let time run its course. For now, Draco, I want you to practice your magic often. Start with simple spells and gradually work to increase their difficulty. Potter, I want you to focus on not blowing anything up, especially not my godson. Are we clear?”</p><p>The boys stared back at him, looking quite defeated. Draco had held out a small bit of hope that Snape had called them to him to give them some critical information, or better yet, a potion that would cure them instantly. </p><p>Snape sighed and turned a somewhat softer gaze on Draco. “I’m sure it is frustrating that we do not have all the answers, but do try to be patient.”</p><p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
<hr/><p>Harry sat back in a squashy armchair by the fireplace and felt as though if he closed his eyes he would be asleep within moments. He had asked the house elves to bring dinner to the dorm for himself, Luna, and Draco, as nobody seemed keen to brave the Great Hall. Harry had inhaled his food, and actually felt a pang of regret that there were no barbs from Draco about his horrible table manners. </p><p>Draco seemed exhausted beyond words. He spoke not once while they ate, poking halfheartedly at his dinner, moving it about the plate more than actually consuming it. </p><p>“What’s wrong with your food?” Harry had asked at one point. “I know you like steak and kidney pie.” He actually froze with his fork halfway to his mouth when he had said that, realizing far too late how bizarre it sounded. How would he know Draco liked steak and kidney pie, if not for the way he had stared at him across the Great Hall, watching for seven whole years? Draco merely raised an elegant eyebrow in his direction before returning to the apparently all-consuming task of moving bits of food around his plate.</p><p>Harry looked over to Luna, who was watching Draco carefully, her expression worried. If Harry were being honest with himself, he was worried about Draco too. He just didn’t like to see those deep purple bags beneath Draco’s eyes. They reminded him far too much of sixth year. Of seeing that pale face, gaunt and drawn, crying in the bathroom mirror. </p><p>“Maybe we ought to head to bed,” Harry suggested. “I’m beat, it’s been a long few days.” </p><p>“Hmm, yes,” agreed Luna. She unfurled from her place beside Draco on the sofa after patting him softly on the hand. He spared her only a glance before staring off in the direction of his bedroom. Luna padded over and stooped down to kiss Harry on the cheek, then went off to her room, bidding them goodnight as she went. </p><p>After a bit of tidying up, Harry led the way to his own room, which was down a different hallway than Draco’s former room. As was promised, a small black sign beside the room next door to Harry’s said “D. MALFOY” in bold white lettering. The boys stood awkwardly for a moment, each in front of their own doors.</p><p>Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well. Night, then, Malfoy.” </p><p>Draco observed him coolly for a moment, and then slipped into his room without a word.</p><p>As Harry prepared himself for bed, he figured that the professors had been mostly correct in their assumption that the rooms would be close enough together. He felt a bit queasy at times, figuring that this was most likely when they were both on opposite sides of their rooms, but it was rather bearable. After a moment of consideration, he lifted his wand and tried to rearrange the furniture a bit so that his bed was right up against the right wall, closest to Malfoy’s room. The magic flowed out of him with ease, and he lifted the dressers and bed as if they were no larger than the feather he had struggled to levitate his first year.</p><p>As he settled into bed that night, the uncomfortable tug in his stomach remained, bearable enough where he didn’t feel the urge to break into Malfoy’s room, but uncomfortable enough that, despite how tired he felt, it prevented him from an easy slumber. </p>
<hr/><p>Draco felt like rubbish. Maybe worse than rubbish, since at least trash was usually contained in a bin. He felt like he was tearing apart at the seams, exhausted beyond belief, fatigued and aching and hollow. He had become very comfortable with his solitude, and the past few days had worn on him tremendously. It was proving harder than he would have anticipated to rejoin the world of the social. Not that he ever anticipated needing to rejoin it at all. </p><p>He had to admit, he had been in worse company than Lovegood and Potter. Luna was mad, certainly, but she was also overtly kind and welcoming, which was a marked improvement from his usual interactions. And Harry, well… He had never had much trouble thinking of things to say to Harry, though in the past they were usually barbed insults and thinly veiled threats. This uneasy truce between them was new, but not wholly unpleasant. He could see himself tolerating these people under different circumstances, perhaps even enjoying their company. Maybe they could have even all been friends, in another life. In this life, however, Draco was wrung out. In this life, he was without magic, completely vulnerable in a way he never had been before. In this life he had learned to be silent in order to be safe, and the thought of trying to make friends filled him with such anxiety that he felt a cool sweat form on his brow.</p><p>Draco settled into bed, and after a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed his wand from the bedside table. He had not attempted any magic since the failed levitation charm in the hospital wing, and the thought of trying it made him acutely aware of the hollow pit in his stomach where a soothing, whirling <em>something </em>used to reside. Snape had told him to practice though, and here, safe and alone in his bed, was the best place to try it. </p><p>He gripped his wand tightly and murmured a soft, <em>"Lumos." The</em> wand tip lit feebly for a moment, and then went out. Okay. That could have been worse, he supposed. He closed his eyes and focused all of his magical energy, imagining it as a physical source (“<em>like a river" Potter had said</em>) flowing toward his wand. “<em>Lumos," </em>he said again. This time, his wand lit, and remained lit. Draco grinned at it like it was the most incredible spell he had ever cast. </p><p>It took him three tries to put out the lights with a Nox charm. By the end of it, his aching body was absolutely begging him to rest. He laid back, placing the wand reverently in its spot next to his bed, and was asleep within moments.</p>
<hr/><p>The weekend passed without major incident. Harry was becoming increasingly exhausted as his nights passed with much tossing and turning, and little sleep. The trio spent a vast majority of their time in the common room, since it had become a chore to go almost anywhere within the castle. </p><p>If Harry thought that he and Luna received far too much attention before, it absolutely paled in comparison to what occurred in the halls now. Before, at its worst, he received requests for autographs and some pointed stares or concealed giggles. The occasional love letter or three. When they had ventured out yesterday for food, Harry saw each and every student they passed send worried and outright hostile looks in Draco’s direction. Conversations died as they walked by, followed by furious whispers. He had been slipped a note that said simply ‘<em>Blink thrice if you are being held against your will' </em>from an unknown Hufflepuff. He had gaped at it, tore it to shreds, and held his eyes open until they watered.</p><p>Draco pretended not to notice, but Harry could tell by the rigid set of his shoulders and his resigned gaze that he knew exactly what effect his presence caused. After that, Harry had said firmly that they really should’t waste time wandering the castle anyway, and they took the rest of their meals in the common room.  </p><p>Harry watched with fascination as Draco began to come out of his shell by tiny increments whenever the three were alone. By the night before their classes were to resume, Draco hardly even looked like he was being held hostage anymore. He and Luna had formed a quick but tenuous bond, as Luna was prone to do with most anyone. Draco, like much of the rest of the school, was no match for Luna’s dreamy smile, warm words, and surprisingly quick wit. He had even restrained himself with what appeared to be a Herculean effort when Luna wondered aloud if the Crumple Horned Snorcack had yet completed their annual migration. Him and Harry had exchanged the smallest of grins, and for the first time, Harry felt as though their relationship might not be so unfixable as he had thought. </p><p>It was that thought that saw Harry standing outside of Draco’s room barefoot in his nightclothes hours after the three had gone to bed. Despite the utter exhaustion he felt, he was plagued by a constant low-grade nausea that left him <em>just </em>uncomfortable enough that he was unable to sleep. When he could bear it no longer, he had jumped out of his bed and went quickly to Draco’s door, thinking that surely Draco wouldn’t mind if he just rested on the sofa in the corner for a bit. He was so desperate for sleep. </p><p>He knocked, and when no answer came, knocked again, slightly harder. The second time, he heard a grunt and some shuffling. </p><p>“Who is it?” Draco’s voice, rough with sleep, called out. </p><p>“It’s me,” Harry answered, “can I come in?” </p><p>A pause, and then, “If you must.”</p><p>Harry entered the room, squinting to make out Draco’s outline, still in bed. The room was set up very similarly to his own, with Draco’s bed pressed against the far wall. This, Harry reasoned, was probably the reason the distance between them was so uncomfortable. </p><p>“Well?”</p><p>Harry bit his lip, feeling suddenly insecure and unsure of himself. “Er, well. I can’t sleep.” </p><p>“Would you like me to sing you a lullaby, Potter?” Draco groused. </p><p>Harry ducked his head and grinned. He really had missed Draco’s sharp personality, senseless as it was. “Prat. I just wanted to see if I could stay in here tonight.” </p><p>Draco sighed and fell back in his bed, scooting closer to the wall and pulling back the comforter on the other side. “If it means you’ll stop talking and let me go to sleep, then have at it. Git.” </p><p>Harry gaped in the darkness. He had only meant to take the couch, never in his wildest imagination would he have assumed that Draco would allow him to share his bed. Nor had he thought that he would want to. Yet quite abruptly, the monster in his chest that he thought was long gone stretched and yawned and sniffed the air in curiosity. He took jerky, mechanical steps toward the bed until he was sliding in beside Draco. He stayed as close to the edge as possible, laying completely still and trying not to allow his erratic breathing to disturb Draco, who looked drowsy and completely unperturbed. </p><p>“If you snore,” Draco paused to yawn, “I reserve the right to smother you with a pillow.”</p><p>Harry laughed quietly and felt himself relax into the soft mattress. “Night, Malfoy.”</p><p>“Night, Potter.”</p>
<hr/><p>When Draco awoke, he thought he was still dreaming. As he blinked open his tired eyes, he found green eyes looking back at him, curious and alert and startlingly close. The previous night came back to him in a rush, though he was only half awake when he invited Potter into his bed. And now here he was, the Golden Boy himself, looking entirely unabashed though he had been caught staring at Draco while he slept. The thought made Draco flush as though he were the one who had done something shameful.</p><p>“Morning,” Harry murmured. </p><p>Draco just blinked at him, overwhelmed by a sudden vision of them waking up together, legs tangled, heads bent close together. </p><p>Harry grinned, “Merlin, this is weird.”</p><p>With great effort, Draco sat up, letting the quilt fall to his hips. He scrunched his nose in disdain. “Your breath is terrible.” </p><p>The other boy shot straight up in bed so abruptly and looked so alarmed that Draco actually glanced about the room to see what had happened. Harry’s green eyes were wide and fixed on his chest. He looked down and groaned, remembering that he had foregone a shirt the night before in the warm room. “Don’t make a thing of this,” he pleaded, though he knew it was useless when the blood drained from Harry’s face.</p><p>“That was me,” he whispered, horrified. His fingers were shaking as he reached out to touch the scar, a thin white slash that crossed from Draco’s shoulder to the bottom of his ribs. “I did this to you.” </p><p>“Yeah, well…” Draco averted his gaze. “I suppose I deserved it.”</p><p>“No,” Harry snapped, and his hand went flat on Draco’s chest, fingers splayed to cover as much of the scar as he could. “You didn’t deserve… you were a kid… this is the <em>worst </em>thing I have ever done.” Harry’s eyes were blazing. Draco heard, as if from a great distance, the sound of the candelabra on his nightstand clatter to the ground. </p><p>Draco huffed, trying to calm his racing heart, as he knew every beat must be palpable to Harry. “Potter, it’s <em>fine-"</em></p><p>“It’s <em>not </em>fine, I <em>scarred </em>you, I-“ </p><p>A great gust of wind blew through the room with no obvious source. Draco pressed one hand over Harry’s, grabbing his other forearm with his free hand. He tried his best to make Harry’s wild, panicked gaze meet his own. “Potter, listen to me. <em>Harry. </em>You need to calm down.” </p><p>The use of his proper name startled Harry out of his own panic and the wind died abruptly as Harry finally tore his gaze away from the scar to meet Draco’s eyes. </p><p>A long moment passed, and when Harry’s breathing finally evened out, Draco released his hold on him. “There we are,” he said, “no need to destroy my room with your dramatics.” </p><p>Harry barked out a laugh that sounded painful and then hung his head. “Draco… I’m <em>so sorry."</em></p><p>Draco threw himself theatrically back onto his pillows and sighed. “If I knew you were going to be <em>this</em> upset that my scar is so much cooler than yours, I would have made sure to remain fully clothed at all times.” Harry’s lips twitched into a suppressed smile. “Now go back to your room. Unlike you, it takes me more than thirty seconds to ready myself for the day.” </p><p>Harry slid out of bed at once, turning back to Draco with a weak smile. “Thanks for letting me stay here last night.” Draco caught his gaze flick down to his chest once more before he turned and quickly left the room. </p><p>It remained a bit awkward between the boys throughout the morning and much of the afternoon, as they dutifully followed the timetable left for them by Snape. It appeared that Harry finally received word from Granger and the Weasel as he, Draco, and Luna ate their lunch in the common room as usual. Draco watched his face darken as his eyes scanned the page. When he finished, he crumpled the letter and threw it into the fireplace, and declared that Hermione and Ron would not be of any help to them. </p><p>Luna and Draco exchanged a glance, Luna struck up a conversation about the magical properties of soil where troll dung had once been present, and that was that. </p>
<hr/><p>Harry was <em>fuming. </em>He had never felt such anger toward his two very best friends in the entire time he had known them. </p><p>The letter had been bad. He had known right off the bat that it would be, given that the very first sentence was ‘Harry, how many times did we <em>warn </em>you that something terrible would happen if you carried on with your Draco Malfoy obsession?’ Hermione had gone on to write that she had done a bit of reading, and she too thought that the effects of the bond would wear off with time. ‘And really, Harry, you can’t deny that you brought this on yourself.’ Then, it appeared that Ron had taken over, and he had suggested several extremely subtle hexes that would be useful, since he was to be in such close quarters with ‘the ferrety git’ anyway. They had concluded by begging him not to take any further risks on behalf of Draco Malfoy, and said that they would see him soon. </p><p>How dare they suggest that this was all his fault? How was it not the fault of the person who had thrown a jinx at an unsuspecting student? Hermione had agreed vehemently with him when he had first spoken of trying to do away with house bias, including the Slytherins. He supposed now that what Hermione had really meant was ‘yes, all of the Slytherins <em>except </em>Malfoy.’ </p><p>They didn’t understand Draco like Harry did, though. Even when they were enemies, even at its very peak in sixth year, Harry had understood Draco far better than his friends. Desperate for attention, desperate for approval, desperate to live up to his father’s expectations. All of those things, yes. Never evil, though, and certainly not a killer. He could still picture Draco’s petrified face as Voldemort tortured the Muggle Studies professor in front of him. They had been fighting the wars of their fathers, and Draco had been thrust into a role just as surely as Harry had. </p><p>As the days and then weeks went on, Harry found himself surprised at how quickly and easily Draco had fit himself into his and Luna’s daily lives. People were becoming used to seeing the three of them together, and though there were still some pointed glares, at least there was no longer a strained silence in any room they entered. They continued to take their meals in the common room, as they all agreed that it was more enjoyable than dealing with everyone in the Great Hall. The house elves were more than accommodating, and had begun to bring them their favorites without needing to be asked. </p><p>All in all, life was good. They did homework together and studied, played exploding snap and chess, much as he had done with Ron and Hermione when they were there with him. When they were alone, Draco had begun to talk and act like his old self. Soon, it became impossible to deny it: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were friends. </p><p>The thought made Harry’s heart swell.  </p>
<hr/><p>“You scared me half to death!” Draco scowled, breathing hard. He returned his wand to its home beside his bed.</p><p>Harry grinned sheepishly. “Sorry,” he answered, “I wore my invisibility cloak, so nobody would get any funny ideas, what with me sneaking into your room every night.”</p><p>The night after the first time Harry had slept in Draco’s room, Harry had lingered awkwardly at Draco’s door when they would usually part to go to sleep. Draco studied him for a moment before opening his door, stepping in, and muttering over his shoulder, “Don’t wake me up when you come in this time.” Since then, they hadn’t spent a night apart. Harry’s room was used only to store his clothes. It was doing very frustrating things to Draco’s heart. </p><p>Draco stared at him for a moment and scooted over in bed automatically. He watched as Harry climbed into his bed, feeling comfortable enough to tug a bit of blanket off of Draco and onto himself. Draco took a moment to appreciate the ease and familiarity of the gesture. The intimacy of it.</p><p>“I heard you had a cloak like that,” Draco said quietly, instead of giving voice to any of his traitorous thoughts, “but I was never sure.” He lay back and tugged the blanket back toward himself, more to annoy Harry than because he really needed it. </p><p>Harry turned to look at him, putting his wandlight out with a wordless spell. “Oh, yeah. It’s been very handy over the years. Don’t know where I’d be without it.” After a brief pause, Draco felt the bed shifting as Harry turned to lay on his side, facing him in the darkness. “Hmm… We’ve known each other for almost eight years, but we know so little about each other. It’s strange isn’t it?” </p><p>Draco shrugged, then realized Harry wouldn’t be able to see it in the dark of the room. “I suppose,” he conceded. “Though there are plenty of people I’ve known that I don’t really <em>know. </em>You don’t see me spouting off trivia about Colin Creevey, do you? Nor you about Theodore Nott.”</p><p>Harry barked out a laugh. “No, but you weren’t enemies with Creevey, and I never once spoke to Nott.” </p><p>Draco hummed  in agreement and closed his eyes, assuming the conversation was over.</p><p>“Well then, shall I go first or do you want to?”</p><p>Draco blinked in the darkness, squinting to make out the dark shape of Harry. “What <em>are </em>you talking about, Potter? Do I want to what?” </p><p>“Tell me about yourself.” </p><p>“Depends. What do you want to know?” </p><p>Harry paused to think and then answered, “Anything you want to tell me. Your childhood, maybe? Pets? First ride on a broom? Your deepest, darkest secrets?” </p><p>Draco snorted. “You’re going to be sorely disappointed if that’s what you’re after. You already know all of my darkest secrets, and the rest is quite dull.”</p><p>“I want to know anyway.” </p><p>What a bizarre thing, Draco thought. Harry Potter wanted to know about his childhood. As if they were real friends, and not just forced together by some strange bond. He was not above taking advantage of the situation and enjoying it while it lasted, though he knew it would only be all the more painful when it ended. </p><p>“Well, my childhood was quite normal, really,” Draco said honestly. “My parents were good to me, no matter what they went on to do. No murals of the Dark Lord on the walls or anything. They didn’t tell me until I was about to go off to Hogwarts that my father was one of his supporters. They taught me to appreciate books, and taught me how to fly. I got my first toy broomstick when I was five.” Draco paused, looking over to see if Harry was even listening. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness at last, and he could just see Harry’s eyes, open and interested and painfully earnest as ever. He pressed on with slight trepidation. “They taught me about you, and how you had defeated the Dark Lord when you were a baby. I’ve known your name for as long as I can remember, maybe for as long as I’ve known my own.”  </p><p>A heavy silence followed, and Draco felt as though Harry could probably hear his heart racing, for it was deafening in his own ears. It was the most he had spoken about himself in a long time. When it became practically unbearable, Draco cleared his throat and said, “Oh, and the only pets I’ve ever had are those dreadful peacocks. Horrible pets, quite mean. Your turn.”</p><p>Harry smiled a bit. “I’m not sure how much you already know.” </p><p>“Assume I know nothing.”</p><p>A huff of annoyance, and then, “Well, one day I was a baby hanging out with my parents, doing baby stuff, I imagine, when this lunatic-”</p><p>“Okay, <em>okay, </em>Potter, Merlin. How does nobody else know that you’re a snarky git? Assume I know nothing that happened <em>after</em> that day.”</p><p>Harry was grinning, satisfied that he had won. “Well, I got sent to live with my muggle relatives who didn’t much like my parents. Weren’t too keen on me, either. Didn’t know I was a wizard, so I grew up like most muggle kids. Oh, except for the cupboard under the stairs was my bedroom. I imagine most kids have, well, a <em>room </em>as a bedroom.”</p><p>Draco knew he must have looked rather stupid, mouth agape as it was, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to remark on something, but had no idea what he was expected to say. In the end, all he was able to choke out was, “You were <em>abused</em>? Are you having me on?” </p><p>Harry frowned and shook his head. “No, I wasn’t abused, not really. Maybe neglected, a bit. Never allowed to eat as much as I’d have liked, some days not at all. They called me ‘the boy’ and didn’t let me leave the house much. Didn’t want the neighbors to see me.” He paused and then added, “My cousin Dudley did love using me as a punching bag, when he could catch me. He was quite fat, you see. But he turned out alright in the end.” </p><p>“He sounds like a delight,” Draco said dryly, his head still spinning. “But, you do know, what you just described to me sounds suspiciously like abuse. What would you do if Teddy were raised like that?” He felt Harry’s reaction instantly, the air between them becoming slightly charged and distorted, though nothing like it had been weeks before. Harry’s face had hardened, and his hand gripped the comforter. </p><p>“Hey, no, I’m sorry.” Draco reached out at once and laid his hand atop Harry’s. “Teddy will never go through that. You’ll make sure of that, won’t you? As will I. He’s sort of my cousin, after all.” Harry breathed hard and buried his face in his pillow, flipping his hand over and lacing his fingers through Draco’s. Draco’s heart leapt to his throat. The gesture felt infinitely more intimate since they were lying next to each other in the dark. He could easily imagine a similar situation in different circumstances, where they were together by choice instead of force, where Harry was looking at him and smiling fondly, rather than in pain and trying to pull himself together.</p><p>As if he could read Draco’s mind, Harry heaved in another great breath and then let it out slowly and turned to look at Draco. “It’s okay. You’re right. It’s upsetting to think of him living like I did as a child. But hey, at least I didn’t explode anything this time. And that barely took any time to pass at all. We’re definitely getting better.” </p><p>Harry, perhaps unconsciously, squeezed Draco’s hand. Draco had never been so glad of the darkness, for he was sure he felt all of the blood in his body rushing to his face.</p><p>“No,” Harry continued, “I didn’t have a pleasant childhood, but I’m here now and I never have to go back, so I try not to dwell on it. My life was much more interesting once I got to Hogwarts, anyway.”</p><p>“You have to tell me what you and your friends did to earn such an absurd and unfair number of house points at the end of our first year,” Draco whispered and then immediately yawned.</p><p>Harry laughed and rolled over onto his back, pulling his hand away. Draco felt foolish for a moment about how terribly disappointed he was, and then Harry reached out with his other hand and threaded their fingers together once more. “That story will have to wait, we need to sleep if we’re to be any good in charms tomorrow. It is a pretty good story, though.”</p><p>It was silent for several peaceful moments, and Draco was hyper aware that neither of them had pulled their hands away from the other.   Harry’s thumb twitched and Draco’s grip slackened a bit, but Harry just stroked Draco’s thumb with his own. His touch was so soft and so tender that Draco could close his eyes and pretend that it was someone who loved him, who wanted to spend every moment with their hands intertwined like this.</p><p>“Night, Draco,” Harry whispered, Draco’s eyes opened just a bit to see Harry’s still wide open, fixed on him. </p><p>“Night, Harry.”</p>
<hr/><p>Days tumbled into weeks. </p><p>Snape’s (and Hermione’s) idea that Draco’s magic would return to him with time and practice appeared to be accurate. With each passing day, Draco was able to cast increasingly complicated spells, and Harry’s magic was becoming far easier to control. When he closed his eyes and focused, he could still feel a vague undercurrent of Draco’s now-familiar magic, but it no longer felt like he could bring the castle down around him with a lazy flick of his wrist. </p><p>He also, he found, was able to tolerate being increasingly distant from Draco with less severe side effects. Though a part of him knew it was wrong, he kept this to himself. Harry was worried that if given the opportunity to leave, Draco would do so immediately and without question. He selfishly didn’t want to give up the closeness that he had come to cherish. </p><p>These times with Draco were Harry’s favorite: When the room was dark and they lay next to each other in bed, and it was so much easier to talk about the things that mattered. Draco’s father, Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, and Teddy. The year Harry spent looking for Horcruxes. The year Draco spent living with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Harry would look at Draco’s blurred, soft outline, and his heart would swell with affection. </p><p>The weather continued to get warmer, and while the sunny weather usually bolstered his spirits, this year it only meant that the things he was dreading were approaching quickly. First, the seventh and eighth years would sit for their NEWTs, and then, once the school year concluded, he, Draco, and Luna would go their separate ways.</p><p>Harry had no idea what he would do when school ended. He didn’t know how to break it to Ron (little though they had communicated since The Letter) that he didn’t think he would join the Aurors after all. He didn’t particularly want to go live at Grimmauld place, but he didn’t know where else he could go.</p><p>The idea had occurred to him, of course, that Draco might be in a similar position. Since the Ministry had taken possession of the Manor and his parents were in Azkaban, Harry didn’t know where Draco would go after school either. Perhaps, if neither had a place to go, they could find somewhere together. The thought held much appeal. Draco never brought it up, though, and Harry was too nervous to ask.</p><p>The only time he had come close to asking, they had all been eating in the common room, Luna and Draco trying to eat and study at the same time, when Luna looked up from her book quite suddenly.</p><p>“Have you thought about what you’ll do after Hogwarts, Draco?” Luna had asked.</p><p>Draco poked at his food, enthusiasm suddenly evaporated. “I used to think I’d like to be a Potions master, like Professor Snape, but recently… I’ve been thinking that I might like to be a Healer.” he had looked up at Luna and Harry self-consciously. Neither spoke, and he looked down once more. “It’s ridiculous of course. Nobody would want a Death Eater to be their healer.” </p><p>Luna had placed a gentle hand on top of Draco’s and he looked up into Luna’s twinkling glacial blue eyes. “I think you’re going to make an excellent Healer, Draco.” She smiled kindly, and squeezed his hand.</p><p>Harry nodded once, staring at Luna’s hand clasped in Draco’s and feeling vaguely sick. “It suits you,” he agreed quietly. </p><p>Draco had smiled a bit, withdrawing his hand from Luna’s. “What about you two? Off to conquer more dark wizards?” </p><p>Luna giggled. “Oh, <em>no, </em>not me. I’ll be joining my father at the Quibbler, of course. I’ll get to write about all sorts of magical creatures and plant life. It’s going to be quite exciting.” </p><p>Draco’s grin spread and he said, without a hint of sarcasm, “I truly cannot wait to read your articles, Lovegood.” Luna beamed at him, then they looked at Harry. </p><p>He shrugged. “I really don’t know. I always thought I would join Ron in the aurors, but it’s not what I really want to do.” </p><p>“And what is it that you do want to do?” Draco asked.</p><p>Draco studied him thoughtfully, making him fidget under the scrutiny. “I… haven’t quite figured that out yet, to be honest.” </p><p>“That’s quite alright, Harry,” Luna said airily. “You still have <em>loads </em>of time to figure it out. A whole lifetime, I imagine.” </p><p>Harry had smiled at her. ‘<em>Ask him,</em>’ he had said to himself. ‘<em>Ask him where he'll stay after school</em>.’ But he hadn’t been able to gather the courage, and before long, Draco was back to his books. </p><p>Draco and Luna were studying at all hours of the day, each determined to obtain NEWTs in each of their subjects. Harry mourned the days when he had Ron to distract him when Hermione became too bookish. Now, alas, he had nothing to do but to join them in their studies. He watched them in a heated debate about how many uses of bicorn horn there were (Luna continually insisting that ‘warding off the nargles’ should be counted) and smiled, thinking that he really didn’t mind it so very much.</p><p>On one peaceful and warm spring evening, Harry interrupted Draco’s studies.</p><p>“I haven’t flown in a very long time,” he announced abruptly. </p><p>Draco glanced briefly up at him with an arched eyebrow before returning back to his book. “How sad for you,” he said, sounding not sad in the least.</p><p>Harry strode over to where Draco sat, curled up in an overstuffed armchair, and snatched the book out of his hands, ignoring the undignified noise he made. “We’re going.” </p><p>Draco stared at him in outrage and Harry had to bite back a grin. “Are you mad? The sun’s already setting, it’ll be dark soon, and it’ll be after curfew.”</p><p>“Good point,” Harry said, scratching his chin as if deep in thought. “If only we had some sort of cloak that rendered one invisible. Or if we were, say, wizards, and had these bits of wood that glow on demand.” </p><p>Draco groaned and stood up, “Oh, Merlin, Potter, you are insufferable. Honestly. I should not be forced to suffer this.”</p><p>“Stop being so dramatic, Malfoy. Let’s go get the cloak and my broom.”</p><p>“Fine. Prat.”</p><p>“Git.”</p><p>An hour later, the boys lay side by side on the Quidditch pitch, lit only by the stars and the dim lumos of their wands, trying to catch their breath. </p><p>“Okay,” Draco said, grinning, “This might not have been your <em>worst </em>idea ever.” Harry laughed, feeling better than he had in months. He turned and saw Draco was flushed and sweaty, his hair dishevelled, grey eyes sparkling. He was so beautiful that it made Harry’s arms ache with the effort of not reaching out to touch him. “I haven’t been on a broom since…” Draco continued before stopping abruptly, face turning pale and grim. And just like that, Harry was forced back to reality.</p><p>Silence prevailed, neither of them knowing how to continue, or if they should. Harry was just about to suggest that they head up to their rooms when Draco asked quietly, still looking up at the sky, “Why did you save me that day?” </p><p>Harry thought for a moment before answering, “The same reason you lied for me at the Manor, I reckon, and why you saved me again at school. I didn’t want you to die. You were a bully, and- and wrong about a lot of things. But you didn’t deserve to die.”</p><p>Draco turned to face him, and his face was open and vulnerable in a way Harry got to see so rarely. “I’m sorry about… Well, about everything that happened. The terrible things I said and did. I’m very sorry. For what it’s worth.”</p><p>Harry turned on his side and out to lightly touch Draco’s chest, where he now knew there would forever be a scar. “Yeah. Me too.”  In that moment, Harry thought he might do it. It might even be easy. There were only a few inches between their faces, and they could be bridged so quickly. Harry could tell Draco how he felt, and tell him that he might very well fall apart if they were separated at the end of the year. He could picture it so clearly he could almost taste the sweetness of Draco’s lips. </p><p>And then Draco stood, brushed the grass off of him, pulled Harry to his feet, and the spell was broken. They walked back to the castle in silence, hands close but not quite touching.</p>
<hr/><p>Harry sat on the couch opposite Draco, starting to doze as he struggled to study. A few minutes later, he had given up all but the feeblest attempts to stay awake. Luna smiled fondly at him, gaze so warm and loving Draco felt as if he were an intruder for witnessing it. Luna went over to Harry, taking the book gently out of his hands and removing his glasses, laying both down on the coffee table. She sat down next to him, curling into his side like a cat, and his arm went around her reflexively, as if they sat together like that every night. </p><p>Draco took in the domestic scene, Luna’s fingers stroking soothing circles in the fabric of Harry’s sweater, Harry’s fingers carding absently through her long blonde curls. The love was so obvious it was almost a tangible, physical thing, and Draco chest ached. As if Luna could sense a disturbance in their peaceful bubble, she stared up at him with icy blue eyes and held a pale hand out to him. Without thinking, he grabbed her hand and allowed himself to be pulled to the couch. </p><p>“Rest with us, Draco” Luna said quietly. “We’ll keep you safe.” </p><p>It was an odd thing to say. <em>Safe. </em>It was not so very long ago that Draco believed he would never be safe again. Inexplicably, he wanted to cry. Instead, he curled up with his head pillowed on Luna's lap, as he had once done with Pansy. Just before he drifted off, he felt gentle fingers, too rough to be Luna’s, stroke the hair out of his face and tuck it gently behind his ears. </p><p>When he opened his eyes again, he knew it had not been very long, as the room was still dark and quiet. His head was still cushioned on Luna’s Niffler print pajama-clad legs. He could hear her steady, deep breathing. Though he was deeply content as he hadn’t been in a very long time, his neck was beginning to cramp quite badly and the arm underneath him had gone completely numb.</p><p>Draco sat up slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the dim, firelit room. He flexed his fingers, sighing as blood flooded back into his hand. When he looked at Harry and Luna, still curled around one another and looking like the most peaceful portrait that had ever been created, his heart felt too big to fit in his chest. Odd as it may be, these were his people now, and he felt he would never know a more profound camaraderie.  </p><p>It took him a moment to realize that Harry was awake and watching him. In the first months of school, he had grown so accustomed to this watchful gaze that he hardly acknowledged it, but now it seared him.</p><p>“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” </p><p>Draco stared at Harry for a moment, caught off guard. Harry must have been speaking of Luna, but his eyes remained fixed on Draco. Draco felt as though he were being tested, but for what, he wasn’t sure. His gaze flickered to Luna, whose plaited hair glowed golden in the firelight. Her flawless skin, her delicate features that belied the fierceness of the girl within. Draco felt a surge of protectiveness and affection wash over him. </p><p>And then, as always happened when he looked at her, an overwhelming, mind-numbing guilt. The images of her, dirty and hungry and vulnerable, looking at him without fear or disgust. Her taking the food he offered her (far too little, always too little) with a small smile and a genuine expression of gratitude. The thought made him want to fall to his knees, to beg for her forgiveness. To run far away and never look back. </p><p>“I don’t know how she can stand to look at me,” Draco whispered, throat tight. “After what happened. I must remind her of the worst thing that has ever happened to her. How can she stand to be near me?”</p><p>Luna shifted against Harry then, evidently awake, and they both looked down at her. She blinked sleepily in Draco’s direction, pushing against Harry’s chest to sit herself up, a dreamy smile already in place. “You remind me, Draco,” she said, voice unusually low and quiet, “that there is goodness and light even in the darkest of places.” She looked more alert now, smiling at him in earnest. “I am very glad that we’re friends. Aren’t you?”</p><p>Draco couldn’t have stopped himself if he had tried. Without hesitation, without thought, he reached out and clutched Luna to him, burying his face in her hair. He felt her small hands rest on his sides, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Very glad,” he said, voice rough. </p><p>He rested his chin atop her head and saw Harry watching them with a small, sad smile. </p><p>When they parted several minutes later to go sleep in their beds, Draco noticed Harry glancing over at him with a troubled expression that he couldn’t quite interpret. After he had determinedly ignored it while preparing for bed, Harry lingered before sliding into bed next to him, looking distinctly uncomfortable. </p><p>Draco sighed. “What’s got your knickers in a twist, Potter?” </p><p>Harry ran his hands through his already unruly hair. “Well. I’m going to sound a bit of a prat but-”</p><p>“Ah, so life as usual then.”</p><p>“Shut it,” Harry retorted, but the corners of his lips twitched upward. “It’s just… you and Luna.”</p><p>Draco stared at him. “What about me and Luna?”</p><p>“It just seems that, er, you guys, well…”</p><p>“I fear I’m going to grow old by the time you spit it out.” Harry huffed a genuinely annoyed breath this time and Draco pushed up onto his elbows. “Seriously, Potter, just tell me what’s going on so we can sleep.”</p><p>“Fine!” Harry snapped. “It’s just that when Ron and Hermione got together I was happy for them of course but it changed things between us. They didn’t mean for it to, but of course it did. And now it seems you and Luna are heading that way and I just-”</p><p>“Potter.”</p><p>Harry’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click and he stared off, embarrassed, into a corner of the room.</p><p>“Are you trying to say,” Draco said slowly, still picking apart bits of Harry’s nonsense rant, “you’re worried Lovegood and I are going to run off into the sunset together and leave you by yourself?” </p><p>Color rose in Harry’s cheeks. The look suited him, Draco thought. “You don’t have to be a twat about it.”</p><p>A moment passed in which Draco considered the sheer lunacy of the statement. Draco had been lying next to Harry every night in bed for months, holding his hand and touching him at the slightest opportunity, and Harry had it in his head that Draco wanted <em>Luna Lovegood</em>? Was that what the whole ‘<em>She's lovely' </em>bit had been about? The thought was so egregious that it made Draco slightly cross. What did he have to do to show Harry his interest? Be kind to him? Call him by his first name? Ask him out on a <em>date? </em>Draco scoffed at the preposterous idea and pulled back the covers on Harry’s side of the bed. “Get in bed, you absolute dolt,” he demanded.</p><p>“But you-”</p><p>“It is not Luna Lovegood that I am interested in,” he said firmly, summoning all of his courage to look Harry straight in the eyes. Harry stared at him with wide, startled eyes, and swallowed thickly. </p><p>He nodded and slid into bed. The air between them was too tense, too charged, Draco felt he could barely breathe in it.</p><p>“You know,” he said, “you never did end up telling me how you got all those house points in our first year.” </p><p>The tension immediately gone, Harry laughed. “Oh, yes! Okay. So. You remember Professor Quirrell?”</p><p>Draco nodded and scooted a bit closer. “The nervous bloke with the turban, yes.”</p><p>“Well, he was hiding Lord Voldemort on the back of his head.”</p><p>“<em>WHAT?"</em></p>
<hr/><p>Draco frowned. They were summoning Patronuses in Charms, which he had always struggled with even when his magic was fully functional. Though he had all but mere traces of his magic back, he was absolutely exhausted from the constant studying, and he highly doubted he would be able to produce even a single silver wisp. The class spread out throughout the room, and he tried to duck into a lesser populated corner, hoping to spare himself a bit of humiliation.</p><p>When he had first started trying to summon a Patronus back in fifth year, he had imagined a silver swan bursting out of his wand, graceful and elegant, like his mother’s. After months of relentless practice, the most he could do was conjure a silvery shield in front of himself. He knew it was most likely because he wasn’t using powerful enough memories, but, pathetic as it was, he just didn’t think he had anything happy enough at his disposal. </p><p>The class had started to practice and he glanced over at Harry. Draco wondered what Harry thought of when he summoned his stag. His Hogwarts letter? His first win at Quidditch? His first snog with the girl Weasel? He knew he probably looked sour at the thought, and he turned his attention to Luna as she produced a corporeal Patronus on her first attempt, the silver hare circling her and Harry once and then going still at her feet. She knelt and then sat there on the floor, cross legged, and began stroking the silvery form as if it were an actual living, breathing rabbit. Harry grinned at her, head cocked and looking extraordinarily fond. The smile made Draco’s heart constrict painfully, a wave of emotion so intense it rendered him dizzy for a moment.</p><p>Before he could stop to think, he held his wand out in front of him. “<em>Expecto Patronum</em>!”</p><p>Draco blinked at the entirely corporeal, majestic creature in front of him and laughed. Slightly hysterical, quite unlike his usual low pitched chuckle. But it figured. It just figured, didn't it, that his patronus would turn out to be a bloody <em>stag</em>, of all things? And he just had to go and summon the thing for the first time in front of almost the entire Hogwarts eighth year. Because Draco Malfoy didn’t do anything by halves, he absolutely did not. </p><p>He put his hand out in front of him instinctively, and the stag moved forward, pressing his wisp-like head into Draco’s hand. </p><p>“You great brute,” Draco muttered quite affectionately. “Why couldn’t you have been something less conspicuous, like a crup or a raven. A raven would have been quite nice actually.” </p><p>“Er.”</p><p>Draco knew only one person capable of such eloquence, and he forced himself to look up into the disbelieving face of Harry Potter. He forced one eyebrow to lift defiantly, forced himself to meet Potter’s gaze head-on. Forced himself not to melt into a Draco-shaped puddle of embarrassment on the floor.</p><p>“Your Patronus is a stag,” Harry said, quite unnecessarily. </p><p>Draco glanced to his still perfectly corporeal Patronus, then back at Potter. “Well spotted.”</p><p>An awkward silence reigned, broken only by the halfhearted attempts at the Patronus charm made by nosy classmates. Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Look, you’re the savior of the entire wizarding world, probably half the class will have stag patronuses.”</p><p>At that exact moment, Hannah Abbott cried out in triumph as a silvery cat emerged from her wand. It bounded around the room for a moment, passing between Draco and Harry in what seemed to Draco a very deliberate act of malevolence, and then disappeared in a wisp of silver smoke. Harry looked back at Draco, blinking owlishly.</p><p>“Well, that’s just <em>atrocious</em> timing,” Draco sighed in exasperation. “I mean, <em>honestly</em>.” </p><p>Harry’s lips quirked up into a small smirk. He opened his mouth to speak, and then, because Draco’s life was a never ending vortex of despair and humiliation, Professor Flitwick scurried up to the pair, applauding and cheering.</p><p>“Bravo, Mr. Malfoy, bravo! That is quite a fine stag indeed! Finer almost than Mr. Potter’s, even, though the two are remarkably similar.” He beamed up at Draco, as though he were not actively ruining the boy’s life, then turned to Harry. “Harry, my boy, would you care to summon your own Patronus?”</p><p>Harry looked chagrined, but closed his eyes and performed the charm. When he opened his eyes, he smiled warmly at the stag before him, the twin of Draco’s. </p><p>“Hello, old friend,” he murmured. </p><p>Draco’s heart leapt to his throat. He was well and truly fucked. </p><p>After that, the boys suffered through an agonizingly long day. Gossip had once again spread through the halls of Hogwarts far faster than any fiendfyre, and by the end of the day, it seemed that everyone knew about the twin Patronuses. It brought Draco back to the first day the bond had formed, when whispers and rumors followed their every step. </p><p>Luna seemed perfectly unbothered by the new development. She had walked up to Draco after class, practically glowing, and said that his stag was lovely and that she hoped one day her Patronus would find a twin. “It’s quite romantic, isn’t it?” She had asked dreamily, and Harry and Draco had blushed fiercely and stared off in opposite directions. </p>
<hr/><p>Harry could hardly touch his dinner that night. His stomach was in knots, the creature in his chest pacing in agitation. </p><p>Draco’s Patronus was a <em>stag. </em>Surely, that meant something profound, didn’t it? He thought back to the silver doe that Snape had conjured, a physical tribute to the love he felt for Lily. Could this be the same thing? Could Draco <em>love </em>Harry? The thought alone made him feel like he needed to get up, to <em>do something. </em>How could he just sit here like nothing was happening when there was a chance that Draco loved him?</p><p>When he could stand the tense silence no longer, he jumped to his feet, startling Draco and Luna. “Sorry, I just-“ he looked pointedly at Draco. “I’m tired, I’m going to bed. Are you-um, going to bed?” </p><p>His friends blinked at him before exchanging a significant glance. </p><p>“Okaaaay, Potter,” Draco said slowly. “Yes, I suppose I’m a bit tired myself.” </p><p>Luna smiled and waved at them as they started toward their rooms. “Goodnight, Harry. Draco.” </p><p>As soon as they stepped into Draco’s room (Harry now kept clothes in Draco’s room, all pretense gone) Draco turned to Harry with his hands on his hips. “Alright, let's get this out of the way,” he said with the air of someone who was about to ask for help moving a couch. “My patronus was a stag. A bizarre coincidence. Let’s not make a big deal out of this, right?” </p><p>Harry furrowed his brow as his heart dropped to his stomach. “Do you really think that’s all it was? Just a coincidence?” </p><p>Draco turned his back, shuffling through his drawers to pull out pajamas for both of them. “Could’ve been,” he said quietly. </p><p>“You knew my patronus was a stag, didn’t you?” Harry reached up without thinking to catch the pajamas that had been chucked at him, gaze still fixed on Draco, who ran his hand through his hair.</p><p>“Of course I did. You did shoot one through my face in third year,” he said, sounding exasperated.</p><p>Harry grinned. “I won’t apologize for that.” </p><p>“Of course you won’t, because you are an unmannered boor.” </p><p>Harry stepped closer to Draco, who took a step backwards automatically. “Draco, please. I need to know. Do you… do you have feelings for me?” </p><p>Draco very much resembled a caged animal at that moment, eyes darting about the room, shrinking away from Harry as though he might strike. He looked <em>terrified</em> and Harry, ever the Gryffindor, wanted to ease his discomfort. “It’s okay if you do,” he said softly, reaching out. </p><p>It had obviously been the wrong thing to say. Draco recoiled violently. “Well thank you for giving me your <em>permission </em>Potter, but-”</p><p>“Draco, no, that’s not what I meant.” Harry ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Merlin, why must this be so difficult? “What I meant to say is that <em>I </em>have feelings for <em>you</em>, okay? Have for a while, but I never knew how to bring it up. And I never knew how you felt.” </p><p>Draco stared blankly for a moment, and then shook his head. “No. You don’t mean that. It’s the- the bond. You wouldn’t be saying this if we weren’t bound by the life debt.”</p><p>Harry laughed, and it came out harsher than he intended. “The <em>bond</em>? Draco, you summoned a fully corporeal Patronus today. I haven’t done accidental magic in ages. The bond is through.”</p><p>“But… you still sleep in here,” Draco looked skeptical. “Don’t you still get ill when we’re apart?” </p><p>Harry flushed and averted his gaze for the first time, reaching up to scratch the back of his head awkwardly. “Er… right. Maybe- um. Maybe not so much. Anymore.”</p><p>After a few silent moments in which Harry was fully prepared to be hexed, a slow grin transformed Draco’s face. “Harry Potter. Have you been using the bond that you knew was done with as an excuse to sleep in bed with me every night?” </p><p>“I wouldn’t say it <em>exactly </em>like that, but. Well. Yeah.” </p><p>Draco’s face was bright with unsuppressed glee, an expression so vastly different from what it had been moments earlier. “Harry, how absolutely <em>Slytherin </em>of you! To take advantage of a poor unsuspecting soul such as myself. I can hardly express the horror I feel.”</p><p>Harry snorted and smiled tentatively. “Funny, you certainly don’t appear very horrified.”</p><p>Draco smiled and stepped close to Harry, placing his hands lightly on Harry’s waist. “Well, I suppose I can make certain allowances. Since I am in love with you.” </p><p>Harry felt as though his smile might split his face. He wrapped his arms around Draco, pulling him close and pressing his smiling mouth to Draco’s. The kiss was chaste and sweet, and Harry’s breath seized in his chest. It far surpassed any misguided kiss with Cho (too depressing) or Ginny (too much like kissing a sister), and he felt he could have continued to kiss Draco Malfoy for the rest of his natural life. Draco pulled back, though, apparently deciding that they still needed oxygen, and Harry pressed his forehead to Draco’s. “You’re sure about this?” Harry asked quietly.</p><p>A throaty chuckle reverberated through Harry. “I should be asking you that,” Draco answered. “You’re far too good for me, and you surely deserve much better.” Harry opened his mouth to protest, but froze when Draco pressed a finger gently to his lips. “However, I’m just selfish enough not to refuse this. I’m sure that I’ll want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me.” </p><p>“You’ll be stuck with me for quite a while then, as I think that I'm in love with you, too, Draco Malfoy.” Harry smiled and looked into Draco's grey eyes, and could have sworn he saw his future reflected back at him.</p>
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